


Almost: Faith

by AppleL0V3R



Series: To [Blank] a Hyuuga Heiress [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Hinata-centric, Kid Fic, Pre-Relationship, Present Tense, Unrequited Crush, hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 17:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11166210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleL0V3R/pseuds/AppleL0V3R
Summary: The day she met him she almost walked up to him, she almost greeted him, and she almost started a conversation. But she didn’t.Theme: Almost





	Almost: Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If you've heard of it before, then it's obviously not mine.  
> I didn’t get around to starting this one until pretty late, so that’s my excuse for the length of this one-shot (more like ficlet, huh?). And maybe even the idea of it. After all, I’ve always seen NaruHina as a cute, fluffy kind of couple where with tragedy they’re still comforting and supportive of each other. So this is a change of perspective for me.  
> Also, this was written a while ago and I am still in the processes of posting everything on my ff.net account here. So please forgive any beta errors

Hinata is young when she catches a glimpse of an outgoing blond boy. He's so loud, obnoxiously so compared to her somber and serious family. It's clear that he craves attention, even more so than the other five year olds in their age group, but despite this fact not many pay him any mind. A disgruntling portion of them are even outright ignoring him. The sight of him vainly trying to get someone, anyone, to listen to him, to play with him, tugs harshly at her young heart.

She wants to act. She wants to go over and provide him with he so clearly wants, needs even.

But she doesn't.

Because she is a Hyuuga and more so than normal families, her father would most certainly be displeased if she ever even attempted act on her thoughts.

So she watches brokenly, disheartened that there is nothing she can do. And if she were being completely honest, she knows she's so painfully shy that even if she didn't have her father looming over her head, she still probably wouldn't successfully approach him. Lavender eyes wincing when the tan-skinned boy finally bows his head, accepting defeat, accepting that today he's still the shunned pariah for reasons he doesn't know. Part of her wonders why he's ostracized this way; the rest of her knows her father knows and that she most likely won't ever know. Not that it's important, it's so common place for the little whisker-faced child to be exiled and avoided that she doesn't believe that it'll ever be different.

Her seemingly pupil-less eyes stray to the rest of the slowly but surely emptying playground. Dusk isn't too far away as the first rays of golden twilight begin to show along the eastern horizon, and most parents have picked up their children by now. She doesn't know when her own parent will show, but she knows that there's a good chance it won't be until after dark. The dour, bitter part of her whispers a vicious 'good' in the back of her mind, but it's ignored simply because it frightens her to think that way. Among the children left, there is a lone pink-haired girl settled on one of the park benches, swinging her legs and playing with the large book in her lap. Hinata doesnâ€™t know who she is, but she's seen her around, she's a civilian with a jonin father. In the sandbox is another child by himself, his back is to her but she immediately recognizes the Uchiha fan printed on the back of his shirt and knows that the boy is Uchiha Sasuke, the younger son of the Uchiha Clan Head.

Much like how she is usually left to her lonesome, she knows that these three are typically all by themselves by the end of the day too. Logically, four lonely children band together. But two clan children from rival clans, a civilian child, and a pariah don't tend to migrate towards one another. At least not these particular children.

Her young eyes travel back to the broken boy who's sitting sideways on a swing and again she almost walks up to him, she almost greets him, and she almost starts a conversation.

But whether there's an audience or not, she still doesn't.

Tomorrow, she promises herself. Tomorrow, for sure, she will approach him.


End file.
